


Escapril 2020

by lunarlakes



Series: Escapril [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Escapril, Poetry, escapril 2020, savannah brown
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23431978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlakes/pseuds/lunarlakes
Series: Escapril [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685590
Kudos: 2





	1. Dawn

dawn 

when i awake in the... morning,  
the clock ticks past 13:00.  
i groan and punch myself,  
for dawn is nowhere to be seen.

an hour passes.  
i cannot move.  
forever stuck in a rut  
of my constant gloom.

she's staring at me;  
my face,  
in my eyes.  
"you lazy son of a bitch!" dawn cries,  
"just get up, it's been weeks since i've seen you"

but i can't  
it won't work,  
nothing will.  
not when there's a caricature of hell whenever i tear away from my pillow. 

it's all dawning on me

my wants, my fears, these irreversible years,  
years i've spent doing _nothing_ but staring into the abyss.  
like a dog in a window bark, bark, barking at anything that goes by,  
never having the fucking courage to actually go and attack.

i'll look dawn down say "tomorrow, you'll see me"  
oh boy she will  
the next day the clock turns 06:00  
and yet i lay still.


	2. Growth/Decay

growth/decay 

kids these days...  
oh! the kids these days.  
"these days" kids are told they're special, unique.  
they're so capable that the world will hold the weight of their feet. 

a kid told this _must_ evolve into a luscious labyrinth of knowledge and might.  
they'll grow and grow and grow into these monsters of pride,  
of bite  
and emotional stride. 

she's a kid these days,  
she's a kid that is told she can achieve anything;  
"fuck school!  
fuck grades!  
fuck everything that comes in my way!" 

so here she is sat  
in her underwear,  
aged 16  
not knowing what the fuck to do  
now that she has zero gcses. 

when flowers are left to their own devices,  
they undergo growth and they blossom;  
then they're given too much attention  
they start to rot and decay,  
just like the ink in her empty resume. 

what does she do now?  
with her last dying petals,  
"should i bury them back into the soil?"  
she'll pray for rain again,  
but she'll still be tangled in the weeded coil. 


	3. Is Anyone Listening?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by my brother, who suffers from sensory processing disorder.

is anyone listening?

the sound of the crowd booms through the auditorium.  
he sniffles, ears muffled,  
noise enveloping every cell in his body.  
can he hear the same that they can?

tears roll down his cheeks as he tries to avoid the chatter,  
chatter,  
CHATTER!  
every syllable, every word, every laugh.

he tries to focus on the task at hand,  
listen to the question being asked.  
but how can he answer one when he can hear a million.  
masses and masses of conversations,  
but not a single one directed at him.

speaking up against the noise,  
he attempts to fight it  
strong powered and willed,  
he unplugs the blasting earphones  
like a knight removing its armour till he shows his bare skin,  
then silently praying to his next to kin.

he speaks up,  
his mind buzzed  
alas, no response -  
mere fumbling words that dissolve as the participant shrugs. 

is anyone listening?  
can anyone hear?  
well, it's not like it matters,  
he'll only speak out of fear.

fear of embarrassment.  
fear of trust.  
fear of losing memory,  
a moment,  
someone he loves.

he'll continue to cry softly in the theatre,  
waiting for the show to start.  
if he can get that far  
he can't get that far.

he will never get that far.

no one is listening.  
no one could ever.  
all he is to them  
is a silent endeavour.


	4. Earthly Pleasures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Welsh, so here's a poem about Wales.

earthly pleasures

the soil cracks beneath my feet,  
i wade through the dried-up marsh  
long forgotten by the rain,  
but you'll remember.

i escape to the countryside,  
only 5 minutes from my home.  
but here, oh here...  
here is where my heart truly lies,  
in the mixture:  
mud, dirt and trees and grass,  
broken bottles with shards of glass.  
pick the pieces up,  
throw them in the trash.

i'm home.

it may not be a spectacular skyline;  
the rivers aren't clear, the seas aren't warm.  
there are be no majestic mountains  
soaring as high as the planes that no longer live in the sky  
no.

the welsh countryside, i'll admit, some find pretty boring,  
getting lost in field after field.  
but it's home.  
and it's beautiful,  
to me.


	5. The View From Up Here

the view from up here

these times are hard -  
that's an understatement.  
so how does it feel to be rocking on cloud nine?  
"working from home is so fun!"  
not when you have fifty-some essays to be done. 

watch netflix that they can't afford  
eat healthy food that can't be found.  
stock up on memories,  
oh god! you'll _definitely _need them.__

day by day by day goes by  
turning into mush of no-reply.  
as they walk to work again,  
you'll be satisfied in bed.  
facetime's the new cafe meetup,  
zoom's the new cheerful team meeting.  
(not that you work a day in your life, anyway) 

so what's it like?  
what's the view from up there?  
rich los angeles know-it-all's  
who's " _so_ grateful" for everything that's done for them.  
so grateful my ass,  
get a fucking job. 

you know what,  
don't.  
stay up there,  
the view your 4 cars and pool.  
just know this one thing:  
there are 7 billion people that deserve it more than you. 


	6. Obsession

obsession

it started small  
a drink after work,  
a drink after dinner.  
then slowly,  
the world around stopped.  
the only thing that mattered  
was a shot.  


a shot of tequila,  
a shot of whisky.  
life was fun and good.  


a party comes around.  
booze and laughs  
then pills and grass.  
it's fine,  
just be wild and free!  


time froze.  


flash,  
cocaine.  


flash,  
heroin.  


flash,  
the hospital awaits.  


you'll still keep going though.  
you can't not.  
morph into a disgusting creature of obsession...  
you know it's all you got.  



	7. Chemical Reaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gcse chemistry let's goo (my teachers would be proud, i think.)

chemical reaction

we stand side-by-side,  
us against the world.  
i look up to you, grinning.

let's embrace,  
go for a stroll.  
our minds and thoughts mixing together,  
acid and alkali.  
we neutralise each other,  
make each other safe.

we'll bond covalently,  
lend our electrons (souls)  
to one another.

i love doing this with you,  
our chemical reaction of love.  
don't add too much there, babe!  
it'll unbalance the equation.

too late,  
the reaction falls apart.

acid and alkali.  
can't have one without the other,  
but if too much of one is added  
it takes over.  
ruining _everything._

too late.  
we fell apart.  
good luck trying separate the bond now.


	8. Hometown

hometown

i already spoke about home in a previous poem.  
but where is it exactly?  
somewhere between two towns.  
dad's house and mum's house.  
i consider neither my _home,_  
not really, anyway.

home is not a place,  
it's people, a person.  
what a beautiful sentiment.  
i don't know how to follow it.

i guess home could be my laptop,  
been with me for six years and counting.  
i love it to death,  
works a charm to this day.

so where or what is home?  
i guess,  
it's everywhere where my computer can go.  
plane, library, desk and toilet.

my home is where i am most happy:  
in bed  
computer in lap,  
headphones in.

so _that's_ my home.  
how lame!


	9. Natural Light

natural light

as the spotlight beams down,  
the sun rises,  
both equally as blinding.  
but only one can stay shining.

as the day turns to night,  
the moon rises and it's children follow.  
tiny specs of light flooding our sky,  
a glorious sight!

the stars in the sky once being able to form art.  
constellations now reside under layers of black, rotting smog;  
children will grow up having never seen the sparkling northern cross.  
aries, gemini, the big dipper.  
just a greek dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's on the shorter side haha :)


	10. Parasitic

parasitic

i'm bored.  
let's go for a jog,  
busy? too bad.  
you'll still come along.

i'm _bored_  
you too?  
great!  
i'll see what i can do.

invest my time into your little cries.  
invade your space,  
tear you apart.  
don't eat that cookie!  
you've gone too far.

let me surround you,  
swallow you whole  
until the only thing that's left  
are broken bones.

one innocent person to the next,  
i'm international.  
pro ana on tumblr,  
inside the hospital.

so sit here,  
relish in your hot chocolate.  
194 calories, not so bad!  
you're just 193 calories too many.

burn it off  
until you can move no longer.

longer,  
longer.

god, i wish your fingers were longer.  
push it down to the back of your throat.  
bye bye, hot chocolate  
and the salad you ate.  
back to square one,  
now how about that jogging date?


	11. Heaven/Hell

heaven/hell

pure, innocent  
heavenly glow.  
your body reminds me of a soft soul.  
but around the smooth edges,  
dark cuts lie deep.  
it's alright,  
just go back to sleep.

hush   
hush  
till the morning comes.  
lazy kisses all over  
although nothing will come of this.  
we will still be sinners;  
destined to hell.

let them talk.  
let them make their signs,  
protesting innocent love.

love thy neighbour,  
no, not _those_ ones.  
we'll commit shameless acts  
we will be an abomination.


	12. Submerged In Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspired by throam :>

submerged in water

i walks out to the sea  
and sit with the ghost of my former love.  
my love is no ghost, however  
for he is beyond the stars now,  
too alive and well for my liking.

we all love to pretend, don't we?

as the shores crash down,  
i feel the water touch my bare toes.  
then my ankle;  
thigh.  
chest.

i used to feel like i was drowning in your love,  
i could've sworn we were gods.  
now i'm drowning in my own regret and sorrows,  
waiting for a sense of your presence, maybe a hug.

we were always too late  
you and me.  
not socially accepted by society.  
it wouldn't have mattered, you know.  
not with you.  
so let the sea wash over me.  
drown me, murder me.

i'm dying.  
i swear that i'm dying.


	13. The City

the city

cities.  
central plazas of the world.  
interconnected.  
buzzing with tourists, bright lights and escapades.  
the slums becoming increasingly more exploited.  
(but they don't need to know about that.)

 **CITIES!**  
too many cities to know or love:  
new york  
chicago  
london  
moscow

all of the above.

my city capital,  
cardiff,  
is a caricature of a cult classic city,  
pretending to be like one of the big kids.  
castles, museums, stores and venues.  
knowing it's welsh but not fully committing.

that's why i hate it.  
cardiff.  
you cruel fraud.  
although you're still my city.  
so "dewch ar caerdydd!"  
do me proud.


	14. Pink, Like Your Brain.

pink, like your brain

pink creeps up on your cheeks faintly.  
it darkens, you smile wider.  
you listen to the sound of her breathing,  
fingers delicately tracing her chest.

she sighs contently.  
breathe in;  
breathe out;  
you are at peace.

you lean against the windowsill  
carefully studying the way she applies her makeup.  
you don't seem to know why she wears it,   
but she likes it - then so do you,  
patting pink precisely onto her cheeks.

she dabs some onto your nose, giggling softly.  
you sneeze;  
you both grin;  
you are at peace.


	15. Euphoria

euphoria

happy place.  
happy place.  
just think, _please!_  
find it, come on...

ah,  
there you are:

i find myself frozen in time,  
the once crowded classroom becoming a cafe.  
or a theme park!  
a cottage,  
stream,  
theatre.

wherever it is, it's euphoric  
i envelop myself in it,  
not wanting to waste any precious time in the place.  
i know i have to leave soon.

yet for this second,  
this one second,  
i feel like i'm collins in 1969.  
orbiting around the dark side of the moon.  
zero contact with the rest of humankind.  
it was just him and eternal space,  
just me in my euphoric place.


	16. Bearing Fruit

bearing fruit

we're wild,  
wicked.  
too cruel for the world to handle!  
so suck it, dad.  
we'll see you in hell!

the apple doesn't fall far from the tree,  
does it?

but we'll learn to accept the ways  
we're supposed to behave:  
speak proper.  
settle down.  
know that we'll never receive a crown  
for the trends, we refused to follow.

but it was good while it lasted.  
sweet tastes of tangerine,  
squeeze it till it runs dry.  
bear this fruit for another life.


	17. Grief

grief

how am i supposed to react?  
my exams,  
all schoolwork.  
gone, just like that.

the quarantine will be over soon  
just wait in this hour-long queue.  
nhs workers receive so much praise  
but didn't you vote against them the other day?

clap clap clapping 'till the pain goes away.  
oh, just one more glass.  
i've got nothing better to do anyway!

we live in this world of productivity  
then it died so suddenly.  
so what do we do now?  
"c'est la vie"?, "life goes on"?

mourning simple cinema trips,  
a night out with the lads.  
just be grateful that future historians  
won't find it as confusing as we had.


	18. How Did The Sky Look?

how did the sky look?

look up,  
no,  
up!  
up there in the sky.

you see wonderful streaks of blues and whites.  
clouds swirl, forming the shape of a butterfly.  
wait, that's no butterfly...

the blues turn black and the clouds turn to smog,  
and earth hasn't even finished the prologue.

the planet is ruined.  
well done, industrialists!  
your hundreds of factories _not_ be missed.

so what will you do when you turn eighty-five,  
and your grandchildren ask what the sky was like when you were alive?  
thinking back again to the deep blues and pastel pinks in the evening.  
answering,  
"i didn't really consider it, i never knew it would be leaving"


	19. Tough To Be A Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't NOT write a silly children's poem, I still managed to make it emo though haha :p

tough to be a bug

a little bitty bug walking up the hill,

he spots a lovely picnic. 

ooh! what a thrill!

  
excited as can be,

he strides over with confidence and glee.

  
"excuse me, sir?

could i sit with you?

your crackers look so yummy,

and there's cheese with it too!"

  
the little bitty bug however shocked to find,

that the people he inquired is not at all that kind.

they all yelp and scream, swatting away.

the poor bug stammers back,

he only wanted to play!

  
dejected and tired,

the bug continues on,

climbing up the hill,

until another picnic comes along.


	20. Moon

moon

hey moon,  
how are you?

everyone always romanticises the moon,  
it's so... magical (ooh!)  
and... mysterious (aah!)  
it's just a rock that we went on a few times  
what's the big fuss?

what's the big fuss?  
are you kidding?!  
the moon is awesome!  
just look at how it glistens!

we see the moon when it's daytime,  
exclaiming, "wow look! you can see it, i swear!"  
but the moon is eternal,  
it's always there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super basic and short. everything that there is to be said about the moon has already been said like a million times over.


	21. Hands, Wrists, Teeth

hands, wrists, teeth

a simple wooden chair,  
middle of the room.  
a lone victim:  
muffled, ready for my doom.

showtime.

i start with the left hand,  
untying it slowly,  
he screams; shakes,  
don't worry, that will end shortly.

trace over the quivering hand,  
grab the knife.  
that's it.  
the blood starts to ooze out,  
now onto the wrist.

a small tattoo decorates the skin that covers the radius bone,  
it reads  
"you will never be alone"

how pathetic, how cheesy.  
he will appreciate this gone.  
carve into it beautifully,  
the screams playing like a song.

his teeth attempt to bite around the muzzle.  
i'll give him one thing: this one is persistent,  
unfortunately, that's not enough.  
i'll still make him nonexistent. 

one bloody hand is done,  
another one to go.  
the teeth will still chatter,  
make a mental note to go slow.


End file.
